As the Beatles once sang, “I heard the news today, oh boy.” It seems to me that while it’s supposed to be “new,” much of it is painfully old and familiar. The themes resonate, reminding me of questions I’ve heard throughout my of my life.
Is a Woman Be Deemed Capable of Being President?
This question isn’t new; it dates back at least to Shirley Chisholm, a Black woman from Harlem who in 1971 in a black church in Harlem announced her bid for the presidency.
The broader question of whether a Black person could be president has also been around for quite some time. I remember in high school outside of Detroit in 1964, women would only run for secretary of the class. The class president would always be one of the most popular white guys, It was acceptable for the the captain of the football team to be Black, but never to cross the line into class leadership roles back then.
Should People of Color Be Considered “Other”?
This concept has deep roots. African-Americans, once called “colored,” have long been deemed “other” and, by extension, inferior. I grew up watching “Amos and Andy” on TV and “Uncle Remus” at the movie theater. Likewise, the same is true for Native Americans. We thought Tonto, a white actor in red face and the buddy of the Lone Ranger represented the typical Native American. The notion of calling people with different skin colors “other” has always been a way of implying inferiority, especially mentally and morally, though not athletically. The idea of dehumanizing people by calling them “animals” or “vermin” has been used to justify their extermination. This lesson hit home for me when I tried to understand why so many of my Jewish people—approximately 6 million—were exterminated by the Nazi regime. It resonated again when I visited Rwanda in 2006 and learned how the Hutu leadership referred to the Tutsi as cockroaches, justifying the slaughter onenmillion people in 90 days in a country of 10 million.
Are Older People Less Capable?
Age alone often leads to perceptions of diminished intelligence, capability, and energy. I’ve been guilty of this myself, making fun of old people. We used to laugh at a commercial with the punchline, “Help, I’ve fallen and can’t get up.” As these debates rage on in the political sphere, they hit close to home for my fellow baby boomers and me. Many of us have faced serious health challenges, with a quarter of my high school class of 1964 already deceased. For those of us who survive, life-threatening diseases or chronic conditions often limit our abilities. Despite our efforts to take care of ourselves, we face the realities of aging. For example, I had back surgery 20 years ago, which led to decreased mobility and reliance on a walker. I’ve also been treated for glaucoma for the past decade, which has led to significant vision loss. These combined issues have forced me to give up driving, something I once took for granted.
Why Is It That Mass Killings and Assassination Are Often Committed by Young Men?
From John Wilkes Booth to Lee Harvey Oswald, James Earl Ray, Sirhan Sirhan, and John Hinckley, and so on the pattern continues. Whether these acts are due to mental illness, political motives, access to guns, or societal violence, the stories are not new. This extends to random killings in schools and public places. The male perpetrators often die by suicide or are killed, seemingly using others as hostages in their own suicide missions.
These tragic events, while feeling novel in our lifetimes, are part of a long-standing pattern. Think of John Wilkes Booth assassinating President Lincoln.
Each new incident captures our horror and set off panic and alarm, only to fade until the next occurrence. We can’t predict when they will happen again, but we know they will, leaving us collectively bewildered and mourning.
Thanks to my good friends, Mike Samuelson, Nick Luxon, John Mattson, and Donna Stenback for reading an early draft of this essay. Mike summed up my thinking very well with his observation.
“The persistence of these issues underscores a significant gap in our collective memory and empathy. As a society, we must challenge ourselves to remember and learn from past injustices rather than cyclically rediscovering them. Let’s commit to educating ourselves and others, engaging in meaningful conversations, and taking action to break these repetitive cycles of history. Act now by supporting educational initiatives and inclusivity projects, ensuring that history’s lessons lead to better futures.”